Blood Pressure
by A m r a k l o ve
Summary: Maybe in another place; at some other time; in another life, he could've loved her. Maybe. But right now all he could see was crimson blood and a slight drop of pink and bright emerald in his crumbling, dizzy world. / War setting. SasuSaku.


**A/N:** This takes place in the fourth shinobi war, kinda after Sasuke my man pierced Sakura bby through her chest (that lil prick). Should I consider this as AU? I mean, this never happened but it's the same world soooo... nu, I shall not classify it as AU. Anyway, pretty angsty and stuff, I tried to make it as sad as possible xD yay. Read on. (Naruto's not mine, ghhhh.)

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_**Blood Pressure.**_

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She woke up by herself after hearing a pained scream and an anguised sound of bodies colliding.

The only thing that registered was that no hole was on her chest, and that her tears were no longer wet.

Then, not even looking back at Kakashi's worried gaze, she ran.

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Naruto was the first one she healed; the least one that needed healing.

But she didn't notice.

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Everything was working.

Everything was working.

It was.

It was fine.

It'd be fine, eventually.

Absolutely, perfectly fine, she told herself.

But as her hands were desperate to find a place available for healing; to search and look and discover a way through his heart; to make his ragged, and uncontrolled breathing come out smoothly; she knew then that it wouldn't.

It definitely wouldn't be fine.

Nothing was working.

The only thing that kept her hopes from sinking into the holes of guilt she was currently feeling was the sound of his heart through her fingers.

The sound, the feel of his breath.

The barely visible rise-and-fall of his chest.

So she tried.

She tried everything she could possibly do. The fact that she was crying wasn't really helping. She could barely see through the blurred images.

She needed to stop. But she couldn't.

Her pained sobs were audible now. He was dying.

_Him._

The man that was once a childish crush. Which turned into infatuation; admiration. Which then turned into something more complex and beautiful. The love that blossomed and progressed along the years would never dissipate-strong and pure and unwavering.

She couldn't bare with the fact that his life was slipping through her bloody hands. She couldn't stand it. What was going to happen from now on? Was she going to move on and continue with her life like nothing happened? Would she throw away almost all her life, that she had devoted to the boy? All those years. The tears. The pain.

But most of all, the happiness.

She couldn't.

She loved him too much. And for too long, too.

In the midst of it all, the voices were becoming louder. And her chakra was running out.

She was sure Naruto was nearby, probably gaining his consciousness back after Sakura had healed him completely. She was sure Hinata was with him, too. She was sure that, after a whole war and after a whole fight, her chakra levels were not very high.

Nonetheless, she put more chakra and concentration in the task she was performing. She really _needed_ to save him.

Until one hand at her wrist stopped her.

It felt rough, big. And yet soft and comforting to her anxiety.

"Sakura", he murmured.

She looked at him, shocked expression present. The tears stopping altogether in order to look at him properly. They held eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. She thought he was already dead. Why did he have his eyes open? She gasped. He frowned, and in an attempt to push her hands away from his body, ended up coughing more crimson blood.

Her eyes were now wider, if possible.

He opened his mouth to talk when he finished coughing. As if all the blood wasted from before wasn't enough already.

"No. Don't talk," she answered hurriedly. Her hands once again on his body.

But he tried again.

"Leave." Yet another hard intake of breath. "...Alone."

She was shaking her head 'no' furiously now. She was _NOT_ going to leave him. And she was not going to leave him alone.

Her hands trembled for a mere second. "I-I... You can't die. I'm not leaving you. Do you know...how hard it was to get you to come again to the village? Only for you to end up like this. I healed Naruto, and now I'm going to heal you." She refused to look at him, but the hand at her wrist tightening told her enough. "I am not giving up on you just yet, Sasuke-kun."

She heard him sigh, tired. And utter an "annoying" under his breath. Oh, those were the times.

Her chakra was already failing her. That traitor. If only she could muster more. If only she could just rest a little bit; eat a little bit, and recover the energy lost. But she couldn't. Time was of the essence.

Sakura looked at him. His eyebrows were drawn together from all the will of staying awake; his lips were in a grim line, stern; his face paler and paler each passing moment.

He seemed in so much pain.

She was sure he just wanted everything to end for him. The sooner, the better.

She could give him that, only if it wasn't that difficult. Which was not the case.

"Just... Hang in there. Don't close your eyes. I-I'm here for you, Sasuke-kun." Her voice kept on shaking, trembling. She was slowly, unknowingly, giving up.

He flinched, his eyes traveling to her face.

Maybe in some other circumstances, maybe in another world, he could've loved her. Maybe in another place; at some other time; in another life, she could've been beautiful. Maybe. But right now all he could see was crimson blood and a slight drop of pink and bright emerald in his crumbling, dizzy world. And all he could feel was emptiness–

"...I'm sorry." As soon as she heard that, she started to cry, again. She was now clutching at his haggard shirt.

–and guilt.

This was not supposed to happen.

He was not supposed to die.

Not this soon.

Pain was all over her mind and body. She heard a scream, which was strangely hers. And that frustrated her even more.

"Don't die on me. Don't...d-don't do this to me..." His name was like a mantra on her lips.

He gave her a heart-breaking, sad, almost-smile, and closed his eyes.

And all she could do was watch, and all his best friend could do was stare, a blank body and a painful soul. All she could do was lean forward, hand caressing his tresses, lips brushing his forehead in a delicate touch.

His blood pressure was going down.


End file.
